


Golden Arrows

by Radar_Girl



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 2012 Loki, Alt: 2012 timelines, Angst and Humor, Avengers 2012 - Freeform, Avengers Feels, Avengers Tower, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Avengers, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Loki, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Possibly Unrequited Love, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Romance, Sick Loki (Marvel), The Tesseract (Marvel), Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, frostshield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radar_Girl/pseuds/Radar_Girl
Summary: Set in the alternative 2012 timeline created during Endgame.When Cap sees Loki snatching up the Tesseract he makes a grab for it, activating the Space Stone. They are teleported to Olympus where they bump into Hermes and Eros, and guess who gets hit by a golden arrow? Loki. And who is the first person he sees? Cap.How is Cap supposed to cope with this? With his enemy being head over heels in love with him? How is Loki supposed to cope when before Cap was just someone to be mocked?When it comes to it, how will the Avengers deal with it?(FYI Tony is amused and Thor loves a wedding.)





	1. Chapter 1

 

Steve Rogers occasionally wondered why he hadn't been driven mad by all of the highly improbable and incredibly fantastical events which had happened to him in his so far relatively short life – that is if you count the long period of being frozen as his existence being on pause.

 

He usually came to the conclusion that frequent and prolonged exposure to the insane and the wicked had hardened his mentality. After all, he had been born in July 1918, a few months shy of the armistice of the war that was supposed to have ended all wars, but hadn't of course. Over 16 million people had died during that conflict; life didn't get much madder than that. Or at least it wasn't supposed to.

 

He had struggled through the Depression into the Second World War and that was when life took a sharp turn into the really weird. With the war came Howard Stark's promise of flying cars (and no one could deny that his demonstration at the Expo had actually worked for a few seconds), Super Solider serum which really did work (at least for Steve), Hydra, Red Skull, and alien technology. There was death, but not actual death, and an unplanned leap seventy years into the future where the world was brighter in some ways, but much, much crazier in others.

 

It was possible, Steve mused, as he saw Loki (yeah, Loki the Norse god, standing handcuffed next to Thor. Apparently they were real too, along with the robotic aliens) turn into himself just to mock him, that he had always been just as nuts as the rest of the universe but hadn't noticed.

 

However, what he could take comfort from and latch onto was that although the world had changed on a superficial level, it was still very much the same as the one he had left behind. Underneath all the smart technology and comfy clothes, humans were still humans; bullies were still bullies, and Steve still didn't like them. It didn't make much difference to him if Loki was god or human, from Asgard or Norway. He was just another power hungry villain demanding that people kneel before him. Steve could work with that. Just point him in the direction of the enemy and watch him fly.

 

It was this laser like focus which allowed Steve to keep a cool head and proiritse which objective was most important, what had to be done, even when truly bizarre things were happening all around him. So even when he had received an urgent message in his ear to return to the lobby of Stark Tower because things were getting out of hand, even when he saw Tony lying on the floor, possibly suffering some kind of heart failure, it was Loki he dove towards because the trickster had somehow managed to get his mitts on the Tesseract without anyone noticing.

 

Steve had known what Loki would do even without having to think about it. It was instinct which had made him leap through the air grunting, 'Oh, no you don't!' because it was just obvious that Loki would use the Cube to escape and he couldn't let that happen.

 

Of course, there is that well worn phrase, 'look before you leap', or rather 'think before acting rashly', and if Steve had paused to ponder the situation then, yes, Loki would have gotten away, but at least Steve wouldn't have been dragged through a portal with him.

 

As he flew into Loki's chest, Steve's hands closed on top of Loki's as they clutched at the Tesseract. The power of the Space Stone was activated and both trickster god and super soldier were sucked into a cloudy blue portal, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

 

Now, anyone who knew Steve Rogers would not have been at all surprised at the news that he had apparently jumped willingly into a sinister looking portal, with no plan and wearing no protective equipment, but it was still early days for the Avengers and Bucky was not yet around to inform people that this level of recklessness was normal behaviour for the Captain. Without this reassurance Thor and Tony (still a little groggy, admittedly) were frantically trying to work out what to do because from their limited perspective Loki had kidnapped Steve and now had him at his mercy.

 

They needn't have worried.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as Steve's hands had touched the Tesseract, the limited consciousness of the Space Stone had presided over an invisible battle of wills. Steve wanted to stay put and Loki wanted to leave. They were both stubborn. However, this battle had come to its conclusion faster than the speed of thought as the Stone essentially decided, 'Screw it. I'll send you wherever I like!'

 

They were flicked across the cosmos as easily as a ruler flicks an eraser across a classroom and with no idea of where or when they would land.

 

Nothing could have prepared Steve for such a journey. It only lasted a few seconds but he was consumed by a nauseating assortment of contradictory sensations: of being squashed and squeezed and pulled in different directions; of being coated in freezing flames and bitten by ice; of flying and being crushed all at the same time.

 

Just when he thought that he might scream he realised that he could hear birds tweeting, a sound that was far too pleasant to be of the hellish portal. The unexpected noise provided enough of a jolt to his quieten his panicking mind and allowed him to focus on what else he could sense without opening his eyes. He could feel gentle sunshine warming his neck and back, and that there was a pleasant smelling breeze ruffling his hair.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

Loki's bruised face swam into view. He was still muzzled and his eyes had a vague look to them as he gazed drowsily back at Steve. But then he blinked and his cold blue eyes sharpened into a look of pure irritation as he rolled sideways, knocking Steve off his stomach.

 

The Captain landed on a bed of dark, lush grass. He went up on his knees, breathing heavily as he looked wildly around at the wooded grove they had landed in, doing his best to assess the situation.

 

'Where are we?' he demanded. It was the first question which came to mind, although he doubted that even Loki would know. The second question was, 'Where's the Tesseract?'

 

Loki had shrugged airily at the first question, affecting an attitude of being completely unconcerned by their surroundings, as if they had been teleported to the right place all along. But the moment Steve mentioned the Tesseract his face darkened as he was suddenly reminded of why they were there in the first place. He leapt nimbly enough onto his feet, but then suddenly lost his balance, collapsing sideways with a grunt. Steve ignored him, putting it down to a moment of clumsiness caused by his restraints. It was more important to worry about the Tesseract.

 

A loud coughing caught their attention.

 

Steve spun around and his mouth instantly fell open as he saw the Tesseract being causally tossed up and down in the hand of a dark haired centaur leaning against an oak tree. The half man, half horse being smiled toothily at Steve, dark eyes glittering wickedly, as if he were taunting the Captain with the impossibility of his own existence.

 

In response Steve shrugged his shoulders up and down, instinctively trying to loosen up and readying himself to fight. All that mattered was the Tesseract. Although, perhaps the shock of it all was finally proving to be too much even for him as rather thoughtlessly he looked to Loki and blurted out, 'We're in Narnia!' He immediately regretted it.

 

The expression on Loki's face was one of pure derision; it screamed, 'You're an idiot.'

 

In Steve's defence, he could just about cope with learning that Thor and Loki existed, but finding out that centaurs were real too....it was a lot to take in all in one week.

 

He knew that he had lost face, but refused to look apologetic or shamefaced. 'Well, when you know where we are, let me know. Oh, wait, you can't. Because of the muzzle.'

 

Loki tilted his head to one side, slowly shaking his head. It was a look of, 'You're asking for it!'

 

The centaur whinnied for attention.

 

'When you're quite done gazing into each other's eyes....'

 

Loki climbed cautiously to his feet, watching intensely as the centaur once again threw the Space Cube up into the air. Steve took half a step forward. The creature cackled loudly, delighted by the reactions he had caused.

 

Swishing his tail he brayed, 'If you want it then come and get it!'

 

He turned about and with a cheeky kick of his back hooves vanished into the woods.

 

Loki and Steve glanced at one another, the same thought occurring to them both. Whoever got the Cube first had the power to leave the other behind.

 

They simultaneously leapt into a sprint.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Loki are on Olympus.

 

 

Cap and Loki shared a brief glance before taking after the pesky centaur. It was dark in the woods but neither man was willing to slow down as they wove between the trees and leapt over rotting logs. The Centaur was maddeningly just ahead of them; close enough that they could see the light of the Tesseract illuminating the trees around him, but always just out of reach. Every now and then he would taunt them by coming to a juddering halt to wave the Cube at them before taking to his hooves again and leaping away.

 

It was then that Steve finally noticed that his shield was not strapped to his arm. He had dropped it in the lobby of Stark Tower, which was really annoying as the Vibruim shield would have really come in useful at that point.

 

To his horror, Loki suddenly over took him, not slowed down in the least by his wrists being bound together by the Asgardian handcuffs. Another second later and he too had faded into the darkness ahead, along with the Centaur and the Tesseract.

 

Steve gritted his teeth and pushed himself to go faster.

 

He hadn't really expected to be able to catch up with Loki so quickly, but moments later he could just about pick out Loki in the gloom. And was he on his stomach, crawling forward? As he neared Steve saw that he had been correct and that Loki was indeed lying on his front, sliding forward in an almost caterpillar motion with his cuffed hands out in front of him.

 

Steve slowed down, shuffling forward in a crouch. There had to be a good reason for why Loki had hit the dirt, and whatever that reason was, Steve did not want to be caught out by it.

 

'What's happening?' he called out in a low voice, although honestly he wasn't really expected so much as a hand gesture from the Trickster.

 

Loki flat out ignored the Captain.

 

Steve drew closer, the reduced proximity revealing to him what he had not seen before: Loki had two legs...but one of them was now being held in the crook of his arm as he moved doggedly forward on his front.

 

Steve blinked. Loki's right leg was perfectly normal and was exactly where it should be on a body, but as for the left side there was only a stump, ending just above the knee. Out of it trailed a tangled mess of colourful wires, a thin trickle of dark blood, and a faint smell of oil and something that had burnt out.

 

The odour of mixed blood and oil was weak enough, but still possessed a sharp enough tang that it sent a shiver down Cap's spine as it revived buried memories of the battlefield, of men lying wounded in the back of medical trucks as oil dripped onto the mud below. He had seen people with missing limbs before, particularly WW1 veterans, but it made his stomach flutter to see the tangle of wires. It looked a mess. An unhealthy, brutal mess. There was a dark story behind it, he could sense it.

 

Steve shook his head to free himself of the memories. Thor hadn't mentioned the metal leg. Either he didn't know or hadn't deemed it important enough to mention. It seemed obvious now that Loki had fallen over earlier because the leg had become loose in its artificial socket, and sprinting over the uneven terrain of the forest floor had been enough to detach it completely. Or perhaps Loki had tripped. The specifics didn't really matter, but Steve suspected that his encounter with the Hulk may have had something to do with it.

 

The Cap straightened up to watch as Loki reached a strong looking tree with low hanging branches. The trickster dropped the metal leg as he reached for one of the branches, drawing his right leg under himself as he did so and pushing and hauling himself upright, the task being made all the more difficult by the cuffs. A bead of sweat of ran down his chalk white face.

 

Captain America had been called many mocking names before: saint, boy scout, holier than thou.....stupid was not one of them. He knew how to take advantage when an opportunity presented itself. So while Loki was distracted he snatched up the bionic limb, resting it across his shoulder. It was heavier than he had expected and could feel the heat of it quickly seeping through his uniform.

 

Loki glared furiously at him. He made a swipe for the leg, but because of the handcuffs was forced to release his grip on the branch. He almost toppled over before catching hold of the branch again with both hands.

 

Smiling softly, Steve took a single step back.

 

'This is what's going to happen,' he said in a low no nonsense voice. 'I'm going to get the Tesseract. And when I do I'm taking you back with me to Earth. After that your people will deal with you. As for right now, you can wait here and not move a muscle. If you're really good I may even ask Stark to fix your leg.'

 

Loki coldly held his gaze for several seconds before saluting him.

 

'Is that all you've got, Loki?' the jeering voice of Centaur accused from somewhere close by. 'My, my, you must have been in the wars to want to give up so easily.'

 

Steve caught sight of the Centaur just as his whole form began to flicker. He glanced quickly at Loki to gauge his reaction. The trickster looked more annoyed than afraid, but from the short time Steve had known Loki, he was being to suspect that this was rather normal for him.

 

The Centaur's whole body glowed brightly as he began to change shape, becoming taller and thinner. When the light faded there was a baby-faced man wearing a mischievous expression on his face, and on his head wore a wide brimmed hat with two adorning wings. On his slender feet he was sporting a nifty pair of sandals, also adorned with wings. Clearly he had a fashion theme to stick to.

 

The man still had the Tesseract in his hand. Once more he tossed it high into the air, caught it and gave them both a winning smile.

 

'Welcome, fair traveller and Loki, to Olympus. I am Hermes, god of many useful and varied things, at your service.' He bowed deeply, sweeping his winged hat off his head. He winked at Steve when he straightened up again.

 

Steve refused to gape. He would never gape when it was expected of him. Loki noticed this denial of awe and experienced a strange sense of pride. Maybe it was because he felt that he and Cap were united together on the same side against Hermes, but more likely it was just because it was fun to watch.

 

Hermes frowned at Steve's neutral look.

 

'You are traveller of sorts, a man who has moved beyond his own time,' he went on. 'But even as you find yourself in a new world you keep defying everyone's expectations. Yes, I like you very much. But, seriously, Loki, it's been far too long, my dear friend. You must be a little bit pleased to see me. Yes?'

 

He spread out his arms wide as if he were expected a hug, but soon dropped them when Loki looped his arm over the branch just so he could give him the middle fingers without falling over.

 

'Well, I suppose I can't expect your manners to have remained untarnished after everything you've clearly suffered through.' His clear blue eyes lingered on the spot where Loki's leg should have been. 'Especially the manners of an Aesir. But, I have to admit to being pleased to see you; I'm not adversed to the sight of you gagged and cuffed.'

 

Loki shook his head, and catching sight of Steve's face, shrugged his shoulders and glared in a 'what's wrong with you?' look.

 

Hermes sighed heavily. 'You used to be so charming.'

 

'Hand over the Tesseract!' Steve demanded, moving in front of Loki. 'I need to take it and Loki back to Earth.'

 

Hermes gave him a bored, half amused look.

 

'I do not know what the Tesseract is,' he said in an innocent voice, drawing the Cube closer to his chest. 'I've only just arrived here.'

 

Steve saw Loki rolling his eyes to the heavens. He almost visibly flinched when he heard Loki's voice inside his head clearly say:

 

[Don't engage him in conversation. He'll dozen you. Just attack him and take back the Tesseract. Go on. I believe in you.]

 

Cap clenched his fists tight, but then faltered. He was sure that Loki was only egging him on for the purpose of snatching the Tesseract while he was busy fighting Hermes; yet, he was also sure that Loki was right, that Hermes would not be negotiated with.

 

It was during that single second of hesitation that Hermes the Quick Thinker suddenly bellowed, 'Now, Eros!'

 

Steve heard the whistle of an arrow flying through the air. However, the duration of the whistle was extremely brief as the flight of the arrow was unexpectedly terminated by Loki snatching it out of the air, a trick made all the more impressive by his hands being restricted in their movement by the cuffs.

 

The watery sunlight bounced off the golden arrow held tightly in Loki's grasp, giving it an ethereal shimmer.

 

Whatever pride Loki may have felt in himself for having performed such a feat of agility was cut short by the inevitable second golden arrow embedding itself in his back. The force of such an impact was great enough to knock Loki off balance. He fell heavily into Steve's embrace, gasping in pain from behind the muzzle.

 

Steve lowered him onto his side so that he was not resting his weight against the protruding arrow. His own heart was pounding as he quickly ran over an eye over Loki. He had every reason to despise the god with a passion, but he also felt some responsibility for returning him back to his people in one piece...well, mostly in one piece anyway...Yet it also crossed his mind in a flash that he should abandon Loki and save himself.

 

He did not do this. Instead he looked up at trees, searching for a glimpse of the concealed archer. Whoever it was, they were at Hawkeye's level of mastery and fast.

 

'Don't panic, Captain, I've no desire to hurt you or anyone. Loki will be fine. In fact, he'll be more than fine,' Hermes grinned. 'He should have known that there's always another arrow. Well done, Eros!'

 

Steve was not so willing to take Hermes' word for it, besides he wanted to buy himself a few seconds of thinking time under the cover of checking Loki out. Loki's face was chalk white and glistening as he shuddered and shook on the ground, his nostrils flaring. Steve knelt beside him and wrenched the arms of the muzzle outwards so that the restraint fell away, allowing him to breathe freely.

 

As he threw the muzzle aside his blue eyes locked with Loki's green and orange ones. Loki's gaze became soft and almost hopeful, a look which Steve interpreted as an expression of gratitude.

 

'You'll be fine,' Steve grunted, giving Loki's shoulder pad a light thump of reassurance. 'You've seen worse.'

 

He was a little troubled to see the white pallor of Loki's face was now flushed red and that his pupils had widened within their olive green iris, the amber flecks completely swallowed up. The arrow had to be poisoned.

 

He stepped over Loki's one remaining leg and with a sharp pull, yanked the golden arrow from his back. Loki hissed loudly, but Steve was too busy thinking to pay him much mind. In any case, Steve felt that if someone tries to take over the Earth they should expect to suffer a little pain.

 

But, the situation had gotten out of hand. He needed a plan, he needed backup, but there was no time. He had to get the Tesseract back.

 

[Steve, the arrow...]

 

Cap looked down at the arrow in his hand.

 

'How did I do?' cried an eager, young voice.

 

There was a loud rustling and a winged man with a bow and a quiver full of shimmering gold and silver arrows landed lightly on a tree branch above Hermes' head. The slender branch should have been bent under the weight of a fully grown man, but it somehow kept him aloft.

 

Steve gritted his teeth in irritation. He suspected that the winged man was just another individual pretending to be a god he hadn't heard of. Where were they all coming from?

 

'Wonderful!' Hermes gushed, staring lovingly at the Tesseract. 'Father will be very pleased with us.'

 

'How about a swap?' Steve cried, hurling the golden arrow at Hermes.

 

The god caught the arrow in one hand and tossed it aside.

 

He tilted his head to one side, light eyes shining brightly.

 

'Did you really think that would work? You just saw Loki catch it. In handcuffs. And, no offence to Loki, but if Loki can do something then you can be sure it's child's play for everyone else.'

 

Eros chuckled along with Hermes.

 

Loki giggled with Eros.

 

Steve had to wonder what poison had been on the arrow. And he didn't like the way Loki was staring at him with a weird goofy smile.

 

'Time you two went home,' Hermes announced. 'Bye bye now and have fun together. Give my best regards to Thor.'

 

The Tesseract began to glow brightly, bathing Hermes in its cold blue light.

 

'No!' Steve bellowed. 'Wait!'

 

But nothing was going to prevent the power of the Space Stone from flinging them back across the galaxy to where they had come from: the lobby of Stark Tower.

 

They tumbled out of the cloudy blue portal a foot above the hard, polished floor. Guns were immediately pointed at them.

 

'Where the hell did you come from?' demanded one of the Shield guards.

* * *

 

 

AN: Thanks for reading!

I feel like that Steve probably doesn't know anything about the Greek gods, so doesn't know really who Hermes or Eros is. Although, he will have come across references to Greek mythology frequently e.g. Hydra and Project Pegasus....I imagine that someone in the lobby mentioned the word “Pegasus” during the argument over who would get the Tesseract and Loki, just as Steve laid his hands on it, which is why they were sent to Olympus.

 

I picture that Hermes will keep the Tesseract under his hat, along with many other stolen items.

 

Also, in the Norse myths, Loki is sometimes called “Sky Walker” (like Stars Wars”) or the “Sky Traveller” because he owns a pair of shoes which allows him to walk on air......So, did Hermes steal Loki's shoes, or did Loki steal Hermes'? Or do Tricksters go to the same enchanted shoe shop?

 

These are important questions!

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

It was Tuesday morning and the day began for Loki in the same way that it had begun every day for the past week: with Jarvis blasting out 'Stupid Cupid' from the concealed speakers in the walls, but only in his room/cell somewhere within Stark Tower. It didn't seem fair to Loki that he was the only one being antagonised in this way, not that he had anything personal against the golden voice of Connie Francis, but it was every single day and was the kind of song in which only one line would stick inside your head and play on repeat.

 

_Stupid Cupid, stop picking on me!_

 

Indeed. He had not been able to stop thinking about Captain Steve Rogers from the moment he had been hit by the arrow. Before he had ridiculed the solider, now he wanted to know every last little detail, as well as do certain pleasurable things with him. It was as exhilarating as it was infuriating.

 

_Stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy! I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly!_

 

Obviously Stark was behind the hilarious prank, or perhaps prank was not the right word for it. Perhaps he didn't intend for it to be mere japery. Maybe it was low level torture designed to interrupt his sleep and gradually drive him mad. Or madder. Well, it wouldn't work because he hadn't been sleeping much anyway and was always awake before the daily performance of 'Stupid Cupid' could start.

 

_I'm in love and it's a crying shame_

 

The room was small and comfortless, but functioned well enough as a cell once the extremely tough armour plates (at least Stark had assured him that they were unbreakable. Loki doubted it) had been placed permanently over the windows, blocking his view of the outside world. If Loki had to guess he would say that the room had been intended for a servant and not a very picky one at that.

 

There was a narrow bed and a tiny en-suit bathroom and nothing else, but those things were all Loki needed to be a prisoner, so he was more or less content, leaning strongly to the less side. And to allow him to move from the bed to the bathroom he had been furnished with a very basic, rickety wheelchair.

 

He was also being constantly monitored. No surprises there. Not only was the every floating presence of Jarvis, but there was also a large number of hidden cameras and microphones, and then there was Derek the Iron Drone. The robotic guard was rooted to the spot in front of the door and tracked Loki's every movement, its head swivelling about on its neck. If Loki moved too close to the door it would raise its hands and issue a stark Stark warning, 'Move back or get your ass handed to you on a platter.'

 

The Avengers had promised him that he would be granted a few more luxuries once – _if_ \- he started to cooperate with them, but that time had not come yet. They didn't trust him and he really didn't trust them. By cooperate they meant that he must do everything they told him to, which was a big ask of someone who had once run away from home after being told to close his bedroom door.

 

They wanted to look at his stump, but he wouldn't allow them to. He already knew it was a disgusting mess. He knew that the bone had been cut jagged and not rounded off, he knew that the nerves had not been cut back far enough, he knew that it was infected.

 

So, what could the mortals possibly do to fix all that with their medieval methods? He was immune to anaesthetics, meaning surgery was not option. So unless Odin was willing to use dark magic to teleport a Healer to Earth – which Loki knew he would not be – his body would have to remain an increasingly sickly mess.

 

Yet somehow his mind was in worse shape than his body.

 

They wanted to answers to all their questions, but he couldn't answer them. Thanos had demanded his silence, used the sceptre to place a block in his mind. If he could find a way to break through...

 

Besides, there was Steve Rogers in his mind, on his brain, occupying his every waking and sleeping moments. Wonderful, wonderful Steve Rogers filling up the space in his mind, pushing all the darkness aside.

 

It was both maddening and hurtful that Steve had not visited him once. Perhaps in hindsight forcibly kissing the captain had not been the best idea, after all Steve was a modest man. Passionately kissing him in front of all those soldiers might have embarrassed him.

 

But he had been unable to resist. They had just returned to Stark Tower and Steve had been holding him upright, one arm tightly wrapped around his waist. He had also looped Loki's arm over his shoulders so that they were standing with their faces so close together that he could feel Steve's sweet smelling breath tickling his cheek, and so he had just gone for it. It had felt glorious to him, to lock lips with the most handsome man in the universe, but had mortified everyone else present.

 

Once the soldiers had pulled him off he could see that Cap had looked shocked, horrified, definitely embarrassed. He would be more subtle next time. If there was a next time. Ye gods, please let there be a next time.

 

He wasn't the only one to be shocked by Loki's affection. Thor had not taken the news so well when Cap had told him that Loki had been hit by a golden arrow fired by someone called Eros...

* * *

 

 

'EROS' GOLDEN ARROW?! Eros' golden arrow!' Thor shrieked, hands in his hair. He stumbled backwards looking between Loki and Steve. 'You mean you...and him....ODIN'S BEARD!'

 

He summoned Mijolnir to his hand and flew straight out of a window. Thunder boomed, lightening flashed. People screamed angrily in protest, 'Hey, we're trying to clean up here!' No one saw Thor for two hours.

 

Steve ran to the window. 'Thor, wait! Who's Eros?'

 

He was not pleased when Tony gleefully told him that Eros was Cupid (Steve knew about him from Valentine's Day).

 

 

* * *

 

 

Loki felt his stomach clench up in anxiety at the thought of never seeing Steve Rogers again. Surely he would come. He was not a cruel man, but kind and thoughtful and just absolutely perfect.

 

_Hey, hey, set me free! Stupid Cupid, stop picking on me!_

 

Finally Stupid Cupid had come to an end, which meant Thor would arrive soon with a bowl of morning gruel. He thought back to the moment he had been hit by the arrow, the moment when everything had changed for him.

 

There had been a terrible but brief jolt of pain as the world spun and blurred around him. When it stilled, there was only Steve Rogers standing against a backdrop of blue sky and slowly falling cherry blossom petals (visual hallucination), their sweet scent filling the air (olfactory hallucination).

 

Loki had been captivated by his face, his eyes widening to memorise every detail of his features. Those bright blue eyes, delicate nose and bow shaped lips.

 

And for some reason there had been the angelic voice of Ilene Wood softly singing, So This Is Love from Disney's Cinderella (bizarre audio hallucination)– an odd side effect of the arrow that was particular only to Loki and no one would ever figure out why.

 

His heart had pounded as Steve held his muscular arms wrapped around him – when was the last time he had felt so safe? - and slowly lowered him to the floor. There had been a single shaft of sunlight falling in between the tree branches creating a halo around Steve's blonde brown hair. Ye gods, he was a beautiful man.

 

He just had to see him again, no matter what.

 

* * *

 

AN: Connie Francis recorded 'Stupid Cupid' in 1958. 'So This is Love' was written for Cinderella in 1950.

Thanks for reading!

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

AN: Sorry for the wait, I am a very slow writer. Steve's not in this chapter, but he should be in the next one. Thanks for reading.

* * *

 

Loki was feeling strange, but he was bound too, wasn't he, after being hit by a golden arrow. The logical side of his brain was telling him that there was something more threatening than the limerance he was experiencing over Steve, but unfortunately his logical mind had been firmly pushed aside and gagged by his emotional, loved-up, mind.

 

After all, weren't the sensations of feeling flushed and nauseous all part of being hopelessly in love? As well as the sleeplessness and the restlessness and loss of appetite. Nothing to worry about because it was all caused by the wonderful, perfect Steve Rogers.

 

His stump would twinge every now and then, but he could easily ignore that. Why would he focus his attention as something as mundane as his own health when he had a sonnet to write? Bryon never stopped writing just because he had a touch of the Farmer Giles, so neither would Loki. He didn't have paper or pen, of course, but maybe Thor could bring him some. If not, he would just have continue composing the love poem in his head.

* * *

 

Thor found himself struggling to come to terms with everything that had occurred during the past fortnight. It was almost impossible to reconcile his joy at finding his brother alive with the horror and sorrow he felt in seeing what Loki had become – a ruthless, merciless war criminal....at least, that was until Eros had transformed him into a love sick fool. Oh, he was still Loki in personality – jealous, conceited, arrogant, anxious, and craving attention. But now he was all those things because of his yearning for Captain America. He was bitter that Rogers had not visited his room, but also penitent for kissing him without permission. But, most frustratingly for Thor, he seemed to lack complete awareness of the destruction he had caused or for the lives he had taken unjustly. He also displayed no concern or interest that the Tesseract now lay in the hands of the Olympians.

 

It was a heavy heart and a gritting of his teeth that once again Thor entered Loki's room with a bowl of warm porridge and a glass of water set upon a plastic tray, preparing himself to have the same conversation they had everyday.

 

He should have knocked.

 

He was struck by the image of Loki and Captain America entwined together on the bed, involved in an intense make out session. Loki was on his back, eyes closed, as Cap wrapped strands of his jet black hair around his fingers, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest...

 

Thor almost dropped the tray in shock.

 

'Loki!' he yelped. 'Drop that illusion right now!'

 

Loki cracked one eye open, looking irritated by the irruption, but did as he was bidden. Cap sat up and gave Loki one final salute and a cheeky wink before fading away with a green shimmer.

 

'Ye gods!' Thor cried. 'Did you not hear me come in? You knew I was coming! Or maybe that's why you did it?'

 

Loki smirked as he folded his arms behind his head.

 

'There are hidden cameras in here!' Thor gestured towards Derek. 'Everything the robot sees Tony Stark sees! Does that mean nothing to you?'

 

Loki's smirk deepened. 'Do you wish to know how far I can go with a projection?'

 

Thor shuddered at the very thought and screwed his face up in disgust, tongue poking out, as though he had just swallowed a fly. He'll never be rid of those mental images now. He heard Loki cackling at his discomfort.

 

He dropped the tray down onto the bedside table so that it rattled loudly.

 

'Hurry up and eat your breakfast so I can leave.'

 

'Not hungry.'

 

Thor smiled thinly. 'A loss of appetite can be a sign of a guilty conscious.'

 

'So, can over eating. Besides, I'm in love, not guilty. How is my beloved?'

 

Thor snatched the tray back up, but resisted the urge to slop the porridge over Loki's head, instead placing the tray on his lap and backing away.

 

'Eat it,' he ordered through gritted teeth.

 

He stood with his back turned to Loki, instead looking fixedly at Derek.

 

Loki stared down at the beige mush before him. His stomach churned. He dropped the spoon back into the bowl. As he looked at Thor's back he felt something like fire stir within his blood: anger, resentment, jealousy.

 

'You can't even bear to look at me,' he sneered. 'Your adopted Frost Giant.'

 

Thor refused to turn around.

 

'I didn't adopt you and I don't care if you were born a Frost Giant. I am disgusted by the monster you've become. A city lies in ruins and many innocent people are dead. And all to spite me and Father. Well, congratulations, Loki, because you've succeeded. You got what you wanted. We are wounded. I just have to ask, was it worth – oh, for Odin's sake!'

 

He had made the mistake of giving into temptation and glanced over his shoulder. What he saw was Loki was staring in wide eyed awe at a new projection of Steve. The ghost was smiling benignly at Loki, occasionally winking. A light blush had spread over Loki's normally pale face.

 

Thor sat down heavily on the bed, right in the middle of the projection. Loki hissed sharply as the mattress sank beneath Thor's weight. The ghost Steve flickered and died.

 

'What?' Thor asked, although he knew the answer. The constant feed from the cameras and Derek's hourly bio scans had revealed day after day that Loki was in poor health – the wincing and flinching as he tried moving about, the insomnia, lack of appetite, fever, and vomiting, all becoming more prevalent. Yet Loki consistently refused all offers of treatment, instead insisting that it was all due to being in love.

 

'Nothing. I'm fine.'

 

Surprise, surprise.

 

Thor decided to be more direct, a method much more his style.

 

'What _did_ happen to your leg?'

 

He wasn't really expecting a verbal response, but it was interesting to see Loki swiftly throwing the blanket over his lap, concealing the stump. He kept his trouser leg rolled up and Thor hadn't failed to notice that the stump was looking rather red and sore.

 

The thunder god rolled his eyes.

 

'This embarrasses you, but me finding you trying to wed with an illusion doesn't?'

 

Loki shrugged. 'I need a strong rhyme for thighs.'

 

Thor ignored the comment and decided to play his ace. 'Captain Rogers would like to know.'

 

Steve would be annoyed with him, Thor knew that, but he needed to know. They all did. And yet even though it was obvious that Loki would open up to Steve, the super solider continued to frustrate his comrades by refusing to speak to the trickster. Thor himself could not understand the reason behind Steve's stubbornness. So, what if Loki had given him a little kiss? There were many folk in the Nine Realms who would be overjoyed to receive a kiss from an Asgardian prince. The general consensus was that Loki was a “lovely bit of crumpet”, to use a Midgardian phrase, and Thor could not help but be feel a little defensive on his behalf.

 

Loki's eyes had lit up on hearing Steve's name being spoken out loud. 'Really?'

 

It made Thor's heart ache to see Loki smiling in the way that he used to before he had become twisted by envy and bitterness. It made him remember his grief over Loki's assumed death and long for the good old days when they had been close friends as well as brothers.

 

'Really,' he assured him, feeling only a small amount of guilt. It was strange to think that Loki was now the gullible one.

 

But the smile on Loki's face quickly vanished and his eyes became dark again. He began fidgeting with the corner of the blanket.

 

'I don't want him to know,' he said quietly.

 

'Why not?' Thor asked, lowering his own voice, as if it would be enough to prevent the microphones from picking it up.

 

'You know why.'

 

No, Thor didn't know why. For the Asgardian warrior loosing a limb in battle meant that they had something to brag about and could easily embellish the story into a fireside epic and earn the admiration of all those who gathered around him. The attitude was, 'it sucks that my leg was bitten off by a troll....I'm going to get as much out of this as I possibly can!'

 

It didn't make sense to Thor that Loki was ashamed of it and not trying to milk it for all he was worth. He felt a strong sense of uneasiness wash over him.

 

Once again he decided to change track.

 

'Zeus has control of the Tesseract. Does that mean nothing to you?'

 

'Yes. It means nothing to me.'

 

'Loki -'

 

'Nothing is going to happen, Thor. At worst the Olympians are currently squabbling like a flock of seagulls, arguing over how to use the Tesseract. But, it is also likely that only Hermes, Eros, and Zeus will know.'

 

'Why only they?'

 

'Because if it remains a secret then Zeus can use it to chase men and women with greater ease than he has ever had before. Imagine, he can teleport himself in and out of chambers in a blink of an eye. Here will never even notice his absence.'

 

Thor cringed, but he also knew that there was wisdom in what Loki had said. Zeus had a reputation that spanned beyond the Nine Realms.

 

'Even if that is true and the Earth is in no danger, I still want to go home.'

 

'Why? Steve would not be there.'

 

Once again Thor found himself resisting the thought of tipping the bowl of lukewarm porridge over his brother's head. He clenched and unclenched his fists as his own confused blend of feelings were swirling ceaselessly around his head.

 

Thanks to Eros, Loki would never be the same again; but it left Thor wondering how much he should care about that, if at all. As far as Thor was concerned the brother he had once loved had died the moment he had commanded the Destroyer to kill him, even after he had offered Loki a sincere apology.

 

As long as Loki continued to refuse to answer their questions about who had given him the sceptre and who had lent him the Chituri army, and as long as he kept refusing all offers of medical treatment, then there really could be no recovery of their relationship.

 

Thor stood up and stiffly made his way to the door. Derek obligingly moved aside for him.

 

He opened the door, but paused only to say, 'You may find this hard to believe but we're not all in love with the captain.'

 

Loki was left staring at the spot where had Thor had sat and after a moment of silent contemplation, sank down on the mattress, pulling the blankets tightly around himself. He was feeling cold, very cold. The tray slid off the bed and the bowl landed upside down on the floor in a large puddle of splattered porridge. The cup of water landed next to it. Cold porridge and cold water mixed together on the thin carpet. It was a mess, but Loki could not care less. He had a sonnet to finish.

 

* * *

 

A note from Hermes: I am the messenger god and I come with a message from the author. Well, an apology really. Some of you dear readers expressed concern at Loki's living conditions and the twit of an author forgot to mention something important. Loki has the ability to create projections of himself, projections which can travel through walls. So, basically, every time he gets bored Loki goes on a little day trip. So far he's been to the cinema, gone for a walk in the park, and looked in on Steve a few times....bit not good, I know, but he is a bit mad at the moment. Anyway, he'll be just fine.

Ahem, also Loki was quite right about Dad, so if any you happen to come across a talking swan or even a shower of golden rain, just watch out.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

Thunder rumbled around the tower as Thor stormed to the high speed elevator, embarked, relaxed for the few seconds that it took to reach the upper floors, disembarked, and resumed storming.

 

'He won't tell me anything!' he boomed, on entering the communal living area Tony and Pepper had hastily created in order to accommodate their sudden influx of guests. It had a large TV (with assorted game consoles and sorted games), large pool table, large sofas, large table, large music system, large kitchen area with large amount of large snacks and a humongous variety of coffee....basically the kind of living room Tony would want to live in himself if he were a normal male, which he wasn't. He had his basement for all his beloved tinkering needs. But Clint loved it.

 

'We know,' Tony said, tapping the edge of the laptop screen with his finger. It displayed the live camera feed from Loki's room, as well displaying some of his vital stats, as picked up by Derek.'We were watching. Still are. It was very funny.'

 

Steve somehow resisted the urge to groan, but doggedly focused on the report he was writing for Shield, doing everything that he could not to think about Loki caught up in the embrace of a projection that looked exactly like him.

 

Thor's eyes flashed an electric blue. 'He needs help. Roger should talk to him. Roger?'

 

It wasn't an unexpected request, but Steve still shook his head resolutely. 'No. There has to be better way. And my name isn't actu-'

 

'Why not?' Clint interrupted, swinging the pool cue over his shoulders. He wanted Thor to continue on with his mistake. 'If he really has the hots for you then we should take advantage before this spell wears off.'

 

'It won't wear off,' said Thor, anger subsiding a little. 'It's for life.'

 

'How is this happening?' Steve asked.

 

He looked to Thor, but the thunder god simply shrugged his massive shoulders, looking equally perturbed.

 

Tony was only too happy to step forward.

 

'Jarvis, lights. Take a close look, guys, I created this handy dandy diagram to explain.'

 

The lights went out and a hologram of a brain was projected onto the nearest wall.

 

'This is an ordinary, not had it in months, human brain. Dull, squishy and not very active. I'm going to assume that it's pretty similar to the Asgardians. Am I right, Thor?'

 

Thor looked about the room, suddenly uncomfortable with all eyes being on him.

 

'I wouldn't know,' he said, defensively. 'The only time I ever see a brain is when it's been smashed into a mush by the club of a Kronan, or leaking out of the skull of the unfortunate warrior whose head has been pierced by the fangs of a dragon.'

 

Bruce winced. Natasha looked impressed.

 

'I'm not a Healer and we treat our dead with respect. We don't cut them up like you do,' Thor finished, folding his arms. 'Continue, Stark.

 

'Yeah. So, what happens when we meet the “one”? When we find the one we're desperately, hopelessly in love with?'

 

Jarvis began playing 'Why Do Fools Fall In Love?' as a rainbow of colours began spreading out over the holographic brain, lighting it up like a tacky Christmas decoration, starting from its centre and flowing to the very edges.

 

'Our brains are flooded with chemicals and hormones – the really good stuff. Makes our faces flush, hands sweat, and our hearts go badda-boom-bah!'

 

'Badda-boom-bah?' Thor repeated slowly, looking terribly confused. Bruce shrugged.

 

Tony unhelpfully pulled up a clip from Tom & Jerry, of Tom's heart about to burst out of his chest and with his eyes popping out of his head with little hearts in them. It only confused Thor more, but Steve recognised the cartoon cat and felt a little homesick to see it.

 

'And so, boys and girls,' Tony went on, 'what happens when our brains find something that it really, really likes?'

 

'It wants another hit,' Bruce answered quickly. 'To be drowned in dopamine and endorphins all over again. Increased blow flow and lowered serotonin levels can lead to fixation and obsession over the object of the desire.'

 

Clint waggled his eyebrows at Steve.

 

'They might place them on a pedestal -'

 

Thor's eyes widened as he took the saying literally, picturing Loki binding Steve with chains to a mountain high pedestal for all to worship. He had no idea that mortals could be so dramatic.

 

'Refuse to hear a bad word said against them.'

 

'Golden boy,' Natasha muttered.

 

'Exactly,' Tony nodded. 'For most people that obsessiveness fades as the brain becomes accustomed to the high, and attraction turns into attachment. But if Thor really knows what he's talking about -

 

'I do.'

 

'Then Loki's brain is going to be stuck in the lust and attraction phase of love. He's going to be riding a natural high for the rest of his life. Every time he thinks of Steve he gets a hit, so he's going to be thinking about our captain a lot.'

 

Steve chuckled dryly. 'So he's addicted....to me?' It sounded ludicrous to hear himself say it out loud.

 

Bruce was on his feet now, poking at the hologram.

 

'Maybe not forever,' he said in a thoughtful tone. 'If we can find a way to give his brain a shove in the right direction we may be able to move him into the attachment phase. He'll be less dangerously obsessive that way and we may be able to get some straight answers out of him.'

 

'He's not dangerous now,' Tony said in a low voice. Everyone looked at him, so he enlarged the camera feed to Loki's room. 'See? He's just napping. Oh, come on, guys, don't you see what we've got here?'

 

'An insane war criminal hell bent on brutally murdering anyone who does not kneel before him,' Natasha answered.

 

'No, that's what he was before the golden arrow fried his brain. What we have now is a lovesick teenager of a war criminal, passively sitting in his room and muttering about roses and Roger's biceps.'

 

Steve cringed.

 

'My point is that isn't this the best kind of rehabilitation? Being in love doesn't just make you think about your crush all the time, it makes you feel great as well. Loved, safe, secure. At least that's what I've heard.'

 

No one spoke up and no one but Natasha noticed the slight smile that passed over Clint's mouth before quickly disappearing again.

 

'And don't all criminals just need a hug? If Loki feels that good then he's not going to want to kill anyone, is he? He may even want to tell us more about the Tesseract and who gave him the sceptre.'

 

Clint threw his hands up. 'Take advantage! I said that ten minutes ago! I know I did!'

 

Bruce had taken his glasses off and was rubbing the bridge of his nose, like he had a Hulk sized headache developing. 'This is a bad plan. You're making a lot of assumptions, Tony.'

 

Steve looked sharply between the two. 'What plan?'

 

'Quid pro quo. We want him to cooperate so we give him a little bit of what he wants. Virgin sacrifice.'

 

'No way! And for the record I am not -'

 

Clint was also looking outraged. 'Again, I said all this ten minutes ago!'

 

'As did I,' Thor added. 'Roger, for the sake of your comrades you must place all personal reservations behind you and go talk to my brother. And perhaps do something with your hair.'

 

'And like I keep saying, I'm not doing it!'

 

'Is this about the kiss?' Tony asked. 'Because if it is -'

 

'No! It's because I'm not trained in interrogation.'

 

'You don't have to interrogate him. Just be nice to him. String him along a bit.'

 

'And encourage him to accept our assistance,' Thor added. 'Mother will never forgive me if he is truly ill and I failed to help him.'

 

'I refuse to do either of those things, apart from maybe the last one. We should treat him as we would any other prisoner. We'll keep him locked up and if he chooses to talk we'll give him a little more freedom. A bigger room, a few books.'

 

'A few smooches?'

 

'No!'

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later and Steve found himself standing outside of Loki's door with two of the Tower's security personnel looking at him with interest. He wasn't used to this, to losing arguments and not sticking to his own beliefs. He was, if anything, stubborn.

 

He couldn't prevent his mind from wondering what would happen when he walked through the door. What would he do if Loki tried to kiss him again? Aside from punching him to the floor, that is. It just wasn't right, a prisoner kissing one of his guards. Not right at all. And would he feel frozen in shock, as he had done the first time around? Ashamed? Baffled was more likely. And conflicted.

 

Conflicted because there was some satisfaction to be gained from seeing the trickster humiliated; yet it was also not fair in Steve's view that anyone should have their mind so radically altered against their will. If not for Hermes and Eros Loki would not feel the way he did, nor be behaving in the way that he was. If it could be considered a small amount of karma for all the suffering Loki had caused then Steve was forced to wonder why he had been dragged into Loki's punishment. What had he done to deserve the adoration of a such a terrible, awful person?

 

But, in spite of all Thor's protests, the Asgardian still cared for his little brother's welfare, and Tony was right to insist that they needed to know who had provided Loki with an army. They were strong enough reasons to just, _just_ , about persuade Steve to visit Loki, even if it still didn't feel right to him. Some things had to be done.

 

He found himself smoothing his hair down a little and checking his pocket for the bag of roasted peanuts. Once these small preparations had been completed he nodded at the nearest guard and walked through the door.

 

* * *

 

 

When he heard the door swing open Loki had expected to hear his brother's booming voice demanding answers once again, so he kept his face buried in the pillow. However his heart rate increased when he heard cautious, light footsteps (well, lighter than Thor's) move across the floor, but he couldn't bring himself to look up just in case it was _him_ , because if the captain saw him while he was such a mess....no, he couldn't bear that thought. On the other hand, he was desperate to see Steve again.

 

His heart leapt into his throat when he heard the soft, gravelly Brooklyn tone inquire, 'You okay?'

 

He gripped the pillow tighter, heart pounding. He could pretend to be asleep, or pretend that if he couldn't see Steve then Steve couldn't see him. But, oh, what if he never had another opportunity again?

 

He slowly sat up, head and heart pounding, and did his best to subtly run his fingers through his tangles without Steve noticing, but the captain was looking straight at him with those brilliant blue eyes of his. Loki's embarrassment about his own appearance faded from his mind as he stared captivated by Steve. He could not take his eyes off him as he drank in every small detail of his appearance. The man was breath takingly beautiful. Even Derek the Drone had his head turned towards the Avenger.

 

And as he stared at Steve the auditory hallucinations started up again. This time Loki had the pleasure of hearing Dean Martin crooning, 'That's Amore.'

 

_When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie_

_That's amore!_

 

'We need to talk,' Steve said, briskly.

 

_When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine,_

_That's amore!_

 

Loki nodded mutely, too dumbstruck to form sentences. It briefly crossed his mind that perhaps Steve was about to propose. What could be more romantic than a prisoner getting engaged to his captor? Nothing. He hoped it was true. He made up his mind to accept should it be true.

 

_Bells will ring ting-a-ling -_

 

'It's about your leg,' Steve continued. 'Well, your stump.'

 

Dean Martin came to a screeching halt. Loki felt his blood turn to ice as immediately panicked fuelled thoughts began to race around his head, all fantasies of matrimonial bliss shattering. He instinctively lent back against the wall while holding onto his blanket, fearful that Steve might snatch it away and see the mess his stump had become.

 

'We know it's causing you pain. It might even be infected which means that if you don't get it fixed then it could eventually kill you. So how about you let our medical team take a look and see what can be done?'

 

Loki said nothing. He felt dizzy; the room was slowly spinning around him and there was loud pounding in his ears. He raised his hands to either side of his head, pushing hard as if he could squeeze the fear and confusion out. His mind was being torn in two. There was his love for Steve competing with his fear of Thanos. He no choice but to love and trust Steve, and he had no choice but to loathe and worship Thanos. No choice, no choice. His mind was not his own, had not been his own for over a year. When would it end? At least Steve was kind, so having his mind hijacked by him was a sweet feeling, unlike the brutally callous Titan. But, still, no choice. Which side would win?

 

Just when Loki thought that his mind might just might rip in two never to be whole again he heard Steve's gentle voice above him, 'Hey, you're not going to be sick are you?'

 

Loki's eyes snapped open. Now that Steve had said it...

 

Before he had chance to even to think of what to do Steve had placed an arm around his waist, hauled him to his foot, and was practically dragging him to the bathroom. Loki would have liked to dwelt on the wonderful feeling of being pressed to Steve's side, feeling his chest, and feeling his warmth spread through him, but the moment was dominated by his need not to throw up on the cap. If that happened he would never forgive himself.

 

They just about made it to the toilet in time. Loki clutched at the bowl, holding himself up as he balanced on one knee. It was awful. He had nothing to bring up but bile, yet his stomach kept heaving, prompting a wave of cold sweat to run down his back each time. It was disgusting, it was humiliating.

 

'Take it easy,' he heard Steve order in a calm voice. 'It'll stop when you relax a little.'

 

Loki tried, but it was a cycle difficult to break. He tried thinking about Steve's exact hair shade, but thoughts of Thanos kept disturbing him. Eventually it was exhaustion that led his body to slow down and he slumped sidewards on the hard floor.

 

Panting slightly he looked up at his hero, wondering how to thank him when he could barely talk, while also hoping that Steve would not ask him again about his leg, he noticed that Steve was staring at the wall, looking bashful but unable to tear his eyes away.

 

The wall....

 

Loki's own face turned red once again when he remembered that for the want of pen and paper he had used toothpaste and the bathroom walls to write out his sonnet. It wasn't quite as polished as he would have liked and the rhyming scheme was a little wonky, much like his toothpaste handwriting. It was too early for Steve to read it but reading it he was.

 

Here is the sonnet _The Trickster Tamed_ by Loki:

  
  


_Oh Captain! Mine true love and light of my eyes_

_Do but tell me what for you I can do_

_My magic is but the tricks of a fool_

_Compared to the wonder between thy thighs._

  
  


_Yes, when I first saw you, murder I did,_

_But the blame was not mine, when it was thee_

_Who was born so perfect, your heart so free!_

_For your attentions I made my fair bid._

  
  


_Say but one small word, whisper thy command_

_And my love, I shall become meek and mild_

_Trickster no more, if held tight in thine hand._

  
  


_I shall melt thine ice, and thee shall melt mine_

_Let us be as summer to each other_

_Make magic together; thy ass is fine._

 

Heart in his throat, Loki shyly asked, 'I wrote it for you. Do you like it?'

 

Steve was completely lost for words.

 

* * *

 

AN: Huge, massive, ginormous thank you to my wonderful, talented sister for writing The Trickster Tamed and allowing me to use it! You're awesome, sis! And when I wrote that the rhyming scheme was a “little wonky” it was only because she herself worried about it, however I think it's perfect and would not change a single word!

Thanks for reading! Oh, if you're wondering about why Steve had a bag of peanuts it's because he took a bag to the Stark Expo and offered it to that woman, but was turned down.

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

**Chapter Six**

 

 

_Thy ass is fine._

 

Steve all but fled the room. He was a brave man in many respects: wasn't afraid to risk his life to save the world, to stand up for what he believed in, even if he stood alone....This was something else.

 

_Thy ass is fine._

 

He had been unable to tear his eyes away from the sonnet scrawled upon the bathroom wall in a stripy, peppermint flavoured toothpaste. It was too bizarre and creepy and horrific (and surprisingly neat given the medium) to not read.

 

And from the floor, heard Loki's voice, quiet and meek, ask, 'Do you like it?'

 

Steve failed to answer him, but found himself striding across the floor, pushing past Derek, and going out into the corridor.

 

It wasn't going to work, Steve told himself. They would have to find another way to rescue the Tesseract, one which didn't involve him sucking up to a lovesick madman.

 

* * *

 

'Just so I know, hands up who knew about the sonnet?'

 

All hands, save for Thor's, rose into the air.

 

Steve sucked his teeth. 'Great, thanks, guys. Big help. Just so you know, I am never going back in there, no matter what you say.'

 

Natasha lent forward. 'Did he keep the line about your thighs? That was my favourite.'

 

Steve decided to ignore her, staring fixedly at the wall ahead.

 

'Yeah,' he admitted three seconds later.

 

'What do we do now?' Bruce asked. He looked pointedly at the Thunder god. 'We don't need Loki to tell us what we already know.'

 

Thor said nothing. He wasn't looking at anyone, but was lost in his own thoughts, sitting half in the shadows. A light rain splattered against the windows.

 

'The Tesseract is with the Olympians,' Bruce went on. 'Maybe it's in better hands now than it was down here.'

 

A heavy silence fell on the room. They knew what it meant for Thor.

 

He broke the silence, smiling sadly.

 

'It will be an honour to live among my friends. And, here, I can see Jane again. What to do about Loki is the only question really troubling me now.'

 

'Then perhaps you should take counsel from us, Thor?'

 

Everyone turned their heads towards the sound of the unknown voice – gentle and soft, but assertive – and there by the door was the ghostly projection of Queen Frigga, smiling mischievously. Beside her was another Asgardian woman – not a projection, but very much there in the flesh - tall and thin she was, and looking a lot more severe than Frigga.

 

Thor stood up straight away and did his best to embrace Frigga, saying, 'Mother, it is good to see you.'

 

'Mother?' Clint mouthed at Natasha.

 

Bruce waved awkwardly at the queen, unsure if he should bow or not. She waggled her long fingers back at him.

 

'Huh,' said Tony, thinking about how much work he needed to throw into protecting his tower against magical intruders. 'Would it be really inappropriate to ask if you are a couple of strippers?'

 

Thor didn't know what “stripper” meant, but he didn't like the sound of it, so he glared at Tony, just in case.

 

'Would it be inappropriate to kill you where you sit?' asked the severe woman.

 

'Yeah.'

 

'Then I suggest that we both restrain our baser instincts and conduct ourselves with a decorum.' She smiled thinly at the group. 'I am Eir, goddess of Mercy and Healing. The All-Father and Queen Frigga sent me here, burning up a considerable amount of their precious life's energy just to do so, even though I was made to understand that this will probably be for me a journey with no return to the place from whence I came. You will therefore forgive me if my countenance is not as cheerful as it usually is.'

 

An ornately carved box materialised in her waiting hands, with a dusting of golden magic spilling over the floor.

 

She raised an eyebrow at their amazed expressions.

 

'Don't just stare, mortals. Show me to Loki.'

 

But before anyone dared to volunteer themselves as a guide, Frigga's ghost swept forward into the middle of the table.

 

'First, I would have words with my son. Please, show me the way.'

 

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading! Sorry for delay.

Loki may be in trouble from Mother and Eir.

Give Steve time. He's not used to Loki's.


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Seven**

 

He was never going to leave the bathroom. He was never going to get up off the floor. Good floor it was too, nice and hard and cool and supportive. The only solid thing he could feel. It was real, it was there, unlike all the fog in his brain.

 

Loki lay curled up on the tiles, not really thinking about much of anything but feeling so much, like the tremor in his limbs and the pain in his stump, which had suddenly elevated from a dull ache to sharp pain. It was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

 

Steve had done the most un-Steve-ish thing and had abandoned him, injured and sick, on the bathroom floor, without so much a backwards glance. And all because of that stupid sonnet.

 

Loki, of course, did not blame Steve, but himself. He had once again offended and hurt Steve; what else could have Steve had done? He had never intended to hurt Steve, but he had.

 

And now, filled with guilt and humiliation, he knew that he was never going to get up again. He would happily stay there, like some sort of bog goblin. But he had not reckoned on seeing his mother or Eir again.

 

* * *

 

Frigga was nervous. Frigga was tense. Frigga had not seen Loki in over a year and he had been through so much; put them all through so much. She did not need to meet him in the flesh to know that his experiences – whatever precisely those had been – had altered him, warped him.

 

Frigga was optimistic. Yes, in spite of everything, in spite of the wicked deeds he had committed and in spite of the golden arrow, Frigga held onto the glimmer of hope that Loki could be healed and restored, turned back into the boy she had raised.

 

In her heart, there was always hope of redemption.

 

She decided against vocalising these thoughts as she floated along the winding corridors alongside Eir, always looking so dour, and behind Thor, who was leading the way while at the same time nervously spinning Mijolnir around in his hand.

 

They reached Loki's door. To the credit of the Shield guards they did not express too much surprise at Frigga's translucent appearance, aside from a muttering of, 'Ghost!'

 

* * *

 

Loki was in another place, another time. Neither of them pleasant.

 

He sweated, he shook, he moaned in fear and pain. He was in dire of rescuing.

 

Thanos was in his mind. His servant, the one with skin the colour of rotting flesh, was hacking his leg off. Punishment. Warning. Do not disobey. Not again. Pain and misery like nothing else he had ever suffered before, off the scales, beyond language and description. No escape.

 

No escape. So where were those voices coming from? The kind ones, the gentle ones shushing him, the ones he thought sounded a little familiar.

 

Thanos laughed. Loki shrieked, screaming louder than he thought possible, screamed until all the breath had been pushed out of his lungs. He wasn't going to inhale, not again, even though the good voices were urging him to. Just breath, take a breath, Loki, they said. Then there was a miracle.

 

'Hey, hey, take it easy, Loki. I've got you. You're safe, you're safe.'

 

His heart jolted.

 

Steve Rogers was with him. Come to rescue him. He had been forgiven for the sonnet and his foolishness.

 

Of course.

 

Steve was perfect. He would rescue any one if they asked for his help, and Loki had been silently pleading for rescue, even if almost given up hope. Tears of gratitude and relief fell.

 

Loki inhaled. Then did it again and again, urged on by Steve's quiet praise.

 

He melted into the warmth of Steve's voice, knowing that he was perfectly safe and sound. Complete surrender and trust.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

 

**Chapter Eight**

 

As Steve Rogers watched Thor hopping up and down and ribbiting – for he had been transformed into a frog only minutes ago by Loki, either accidentally or intentionally, no one could tell for certain – he reflected upon how the day was going badly for everyone inside of Stark Tower, and oddly too, but hopefully Queen Frigga and the stern looking Eir would soon sort things out. He was optimistic like that.

* * *

Frigga, or rather her telepathic projection while her body remained safely on Asgard, and Eir, actually in the flesh, had been making their way to Loki's room/cell, escorted by Thor, had been alerted by Stark over the intercom that Loki had just smashed the guard drone into “isty bitst little bits”.

 

They hurried, they ran, ambled in Eir's case and teleported in Frigga's. Thor reached the room/cell first, hammer held aloft and with lightening dancing over his huge hands. He asked the Shield soldiers to step aside and knocked politely, because all Asgardian princes are brought up to have good manners, and then proceeded to kick the door, knocking it clean off it's hinges.

 

'Loki!' he bellowed. 'What have you done?'

 

None of this noise and kicking down of doors was good for Loki. He was sensitive like that and much preferred to pick door locks, rather than kick them down like a savage. But it was made all the worse by the state he was in and that state was a terrible one.

 

The infection was winning and his body was losing. Badly. In a last ditch effort to destroy the infection the hypothalamus in Loki's brain panickly sent the order for body temperature to be hiked up even higher, just like that _one_ person in the office who is always cold and is somehow put in control of the thermostat. His fever intensified.

 

However, although fevers are good at burning up viruses they are also good at melting brains. Loki was lost in his own waking nightmare, where time and place no longer really existed. He felt terribly afraid and could not quite remember where he was or why he was. It was pure instinct and a surge in magical energy that had destroyed the drone, quite beyond his control.

 

When the door had smashed against the floor he had winced and tried to crawl into further into the corner.

 

And it was instinct that had caused him to turn his brother into a frog, self-defence. Well, maybe it was a little bit him, but Thor shouldn't threaten him like that, not when the world was spinning and shadows were turning into the monsters from his past.

 

He buried his face into his arms, groaning, or was it a whimper, as the walls shimmered and the floor rocked beneath him. He could hear a faint banging, a muffled rhythmic thumping from far away. Maybe it was his heart beating or the heavy footsteps of Thanos approaching, coming closer and closer. He was going to die here, alone and afraid, far from home.

 

'Loki, look at me. Loki, it's your mother. Loki. Loki.'

 

He ignored her voice. He had heard it before and it was always a trick of his mind. It would leave him soon, it always did.

 

'Well, I don't mind if you ignore me,' said a new voice, brisk and no nonsense, but still gentle somehow. It sent a shiver down Loki's spine. 'But I still have to heal you. You're very sick, but I can help you.'

 

Loki lifted his head – so heavy! - and tried to focus on the source of the voice, but there was something off with his vision. He could see a shadowy figure, twisting and warping and splitting into two before merging back again; it looked monstrous and sinister. He drew in a ragged breath.

 

'Don't be afraid, Loki,' said Frigga's voice from somewhere above him.

 

He looked around for her, finally tipping his head back enough to spot her floating above and behind the shadowy monster. It was his mother and yet it was not her, she was too bright, too shining, face too still to be real.

 

'You will be well soon,' said his mother's voice from the mouth of the ghost.

 

He had to get out of there, wherever he was.

 

The monstrous figure was reaching out a hand towards him, but Loki knocked it aside, fear boosting his strength. The figure tried again, only this time it resulted in her also being turned into a frog, a beautiful green-yellow frog with red and blue stripes down her back.

 

'If you're thinking about attempting to do the same to me,' the ghost began, 'then I suggest that you cast your mind back...Loki, stay still!'

 

No, no, no, he had to get out, he had to escape the monsters and the fear and the pain.

 

It was agony to drag himself over the floor, leaving a thin trail of blood from his messed-up stump behind him, but the pain was hardly registering in his mind. There was only the drive to escape that was pushing him onwards.

 

Get away, get away, get away.

 

And that was where Steve caught him, although caught may be too strong a word. He had only made it half way over the threshold when his energy finally gave out. He was lying with his cheek pressed into the carpet when he perceived something standing close to him. A surge of fear rose up in him.

 

'Going somewhere?' Steve asked, tilting his head to one side.

 

He saw Loki's eyes widen in panic, but there was more than just fear there. It was total confusion and a lack of recognition. He had seen that look in the eyes of wounded soldiers, suffering shell shock.

 

Steve knelt down and placed a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder.

 

'Hey, hey, it's okay, you're safe,' he said in a low voice. 'Just take it easy, Loki. Your mom here is to help.'

 

Frigga chose to remain silent, watching the interaction with interest. She watched with relief as Loki seemed to relax, allowing Steve to gently roll him onto his back, his breathing gradually slowing and becoming quieter. But then Loki's eyes completely closed as his whole body shuddered, from head to foot, with every breath. His skin had turned ashen and was glistening with sweat.

 

Eir landed on his chest in a single bound.

 

'Frog or not, I will not allow him to die, your majesty!' she said with a croak. 'I can still feel my magic within me, but I will have to work quickly. His pulse is very erratic.'

 

Steve blinked at the talking frog and as usual decided to take it all in his stride.

 

Thor was attempting to wrap his delicate webbed feet around the handle of Mijolnir. It moved ever so slightly when he lent against it.

 

'I would like to help,' he told her. 'I am at your disposal.'

 

'And what could such a small frog do?' Eir snapped. 'Wait outside. Captain, please move to Loki to the bed.'

 

Thor croaked and puffed out his chest indignantly. Steve was doing his best to lift Loki as carefully as he could and lay him out on the bed, but it was tricky with Eir leaping up and down next to him, shrieking, 'Careful!'

 

'But I can help!' Thor insisted.

 

'Please keep Steve company, dear,' said Frigga, patiently.

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!


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